Sentinel
by Vermilion Angel
Summary: Hutch finds himself on the wrong end of a crime lord's malice, and the attentions of a mysterious person in red.


DISCLAIMER: I don't own the rights to Starsky, Hutch, the Torino or anything else. I am not making a profit, nor do I wish to hurt feelings. :-)

NB: This is my first Fanfic, so please be gentle: I've only seen series one and two and a teeny bit of season three. Thank you to Clare, my proofreader, to whom I owe... um... cake. Reviews will be welcomed, 'specially nice ones. ;-) I'm afraid my sensibilities lie with fantasy writing, so things get a little weird. Enjoy.

Warning: There is some mild swearing and some violence, as well as some H/C thrown in for good measure. Poor Hutch gets it again... enough talking, on with the story...

* * *

**SENTINEL**

The woman by the window appeared to be board and disinterested with the flurry of activity that surrounded her. She was wearing a black coat which all but obscured her natural form, with her hair pulled back tightly into an untidy bun. Her sunglasses obscured her eyes and she had a hat pulled low over her face. A casual bystander may have thought she was sleeping. However there where no casual bystanders, only people running round like headless chickens, yelling at one another. She stood and walked idly to the centre of the room, and, drawing a pistol from her belt she fired a single shot into the air. The hustle and bustle stopped immediately as all eyes fixed on her. She looked around at the worried faces.

"I'm looking for William Anthony," she announced "I'm willing to pay good money to find him." Looking around, she smiled at their expressions; they didn't know who to fear more. "Ok" She continued, "Tell me where he is and no-one get into trouble. He'll want to see me."

An old man took a tiny step closer "If he wanted to see you, why do you have to ask us where he is?"

"He doesn't know he wants to see me yet." The woman smirked

* * *

"This woman was seen entering a factory we know Anthony's using as a front..." Dobey said, handing Hutch the pictures. "We don't know who she is... but we think you can find out. She's got no records with us so it's safe to assume she's from out of town... get out there and see what you can dig up." 

Hutch handed Starsky the pictures. "We'll see what we can do." He got up and grabbed his jacket. He turned to his partner "You coming?"

Starsky looked up puzzled "Oh, sure..." he got up and followed Hutch out of the office, Dobey sighed.

"What's the matter?" Hutch said, noticing the puzzled expression that lingered on his friend's face

"Well... I think I've seen this chick before," Starsky said, pointing at the picture in his hand

"Ok," Hutch replied, "Where'd you see her?"

"Well... that's just it, I can't remember," Starsky said

"Beautiful." Hutch sighed "C'mon, let's go see what the street has for us."

* * *

"Hey, if it isn't my two favourite customers." Huggy smiled as they walked down the steps to The Pits. 

"Hey Hug, two beers," Hutch said as they sat at the bar.

"Coming right up..." Huggy replied, turning to get two glasses then turning back to fill them. "What can I do for you two guys?"

"Well Hug, we need to find out who this is. We think she's from out of town," Hutch told him, pushing the picture across the bar. Huggy picked it up and studied it, then put it back down.

"I'll see what I can do," he replied "in the meantime, why don't you go see Crazy Al... he used to be a small time smuggler and he runs a burger joint at 362 Hill View. He knows all sorts of crooks outside bay city."

"Thanks Hug," Starsky said finishing up his beer before they headed for the door. "Call us if you find out anything."

"Of course, the bear always delivers."

* * *

As the gleaming Torino pulled up outside the burger bar, they immediately saw that it was too late. The doors had been forced in and glass littered the street. There was no way they'd get to talk with Crazy Al now, four bullet wounds to the chest and three into his head made sure he was finished. 

"I get the feeling that somebody didn't want us talking to him..."

"You ever think of becoming a detective?" Hutch replied dryly

"I'll call the coroner's wagon," Starsky said, ignoring his partner.

"They really wanted him dead," Hutch stated as he knelt down. "By these wounds, I'd say that either the guy was wandering around when he did it or there were a couple of guys with guns here."

"An execution?" Starsky asked, "Didn't Huggy say he was out of the business?"

Hutch shrugged and started looking around the little office at the back. He picked up a pile of postcards "Acapulco, Venezuela, Mexico City... guy's got a lot of foreign friends. What does that tell you?" he asked, handing them to Starsky

"That he wasn't out of the business," Starsky replied

Hutch picked up a plastic crown off the desk, "What the hell?"

"That's it!" Starsky exclaimed, grabbing the crown "King!"

Hutch stared at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"King... uh, Roz King." He grabbed the picture out of his jacket and pointed at it "Hooker from... Wisconsin. She was operating out of a bar down by the docks, I busted her boyfriend for dope dealing couple o' years back."

"How does a two bit hooker get mixed up with a guy like Anthony?"

"Well... that's what we have to find out."

Two uniformed officers arrived with the coroner. Starsky and Hutch got back in the Torino and headed back to base to wait for the reports.

* * *

"Ugh!" Roz exclaimed, spitting hot coffee all over the floor "This is disgusting! Who do I have to screw to get some decent coffee?" she yelled at the three surprised men sitting at a table against the wall. William Anthony walked into the room; he was a tall, broad shouldered man who had a natural grace of movement. His dark hair was tied back into a neat ponytail and a little goatee added to his persona. In his presence, the room took on an eerie silence. 

"Will!" Roz cried almost euphorically. "Tell you're guys to get some decent..."

Anthony raised a finger to silence her. "Roz, you talk too much. Did you dispose of Al? " He had a flat, emotionless voice.

"We... encountered a problem... One of the officers..." Roz began; he cut her off.

"We?"

"Uh... I have encountered a problem," Roz corrected quickly, Anthony nodded solemnly

"Then fix it."

* * *

Hutch sat thinking as Starsky went about ordering as much food as he could afford. 

"Leave someone else some food Starsk," he commented, glancing at the brunette bouncing on his heels while he waited at the window.

"I haven't eaten all day," Starsky protested. "And whose fault was that?"

Hutch rolled his eyes "How was it my fault?" he suddenly regretted saying that, he knew he was in for another ragging. Hutch turned away and studied the buildings on the other side of the street. He noticed a pretty young thing with endless legs strutting down the sidewalk shaking her thing. She was sexy and she knew it. Hutch knew it too and his eyes helplessly followed her, ignoring Starsky yammering in the background. Conscious he might be drooling on the table he snapped his gaze away, it fell on a figure clad almost entirely in red glairing at Hutch intensely. A truck broke his line of vision for a moment as it pulled away again the figure was gone.

Hutch's gaze searched up and down the street, something about the figure disturbed him. He sat in silence and appeared to examine the saltcellar.

Starsky sat heavily on the bench next to Hutch, placing his pile of food before him, a 100-watt grin plastered across his face. He handed Hutch a small sandwich wrapped up in white paper. Then he set out four separate packages in front of himself.

"Couldn't decide what to have?" The blond asked with mock innocence

Starsky shot him a look. "This happens to be the greatest high cuisine available."

"Uh-huh." Hutch nodded, taking a bite of his lunch.

"Let's say we go back and see Huggy?" Starsky said between mouthfuls. "And see what he's got?"

Hutch nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"So... what do you think?"

"About the case?"

Starsky pointed at Hutch's sandwich.

"It's a sandwich Starsk..." Hutch replied, "What am I supposed to think?"

"You know you're problem? You got no... no... joi de vivre."

"What?"

"It's French for..." he began, then saw Hutch was ignoring him entirely, sighed "...doesn't matter."

* * *

Hutch was staring aimlessly out of the passenger side window, as he often did when he was lost in thought. 

"Something on your mind?"

"Huh?" he replied after a moment, turning towards Starsky.

"I said... something bugging you?"

"Nothing... it's nothing," Hutch replied, his brow furrowing

Starsky grinned at him "It's not that blond you saw at the burger bar then?"

Hutch turned "You saw her, huh?"

"How could I miss her? 'Sides, you were drooling over the tablecloth."

Hutch smiled despite himself and then spied a tall, skinny man standing on the pavement. "Hey... isn't that Huggy?"

* * *

They pulled up in front of a little stall, Hutch jumped out, followed by Starsky. Huggy was leaning against it holding a small, ugly plastic toy. He grinned at them. 

"I'm watching my cousin's stall for a couple a days..." he said "Can I interest you in the latest fashion in household gadgets?" he held up the toy. "This little baby only costs $20..."

"But what is it?" Starsky said, taking it off him

"That my friend is the handy-dandy, super deluxe home air freshener... or car, if you prefer."

Starsky examined it; it had a cluster of small holes in the back. He sniffed it.

"Huggy... you said you had something for us?" Hutch said, doing his best to ignore Starsky.

"I sure do... seems like Anthony's been hiring extra muscle lately... word is he's gearing up for a big job."

"What kind of job?" Hutch asked

"Hey, how much did you say this was?" Starsky interrupted.

"$20 dollars my man..." Huggy said, slipping into entrepreneurial mode. "And it'll keep your house fresh as a field of daises..."

"Starsk..." Hutch said, sighing "Huggy... the job?"

"Well... I can't tell you that, but I can tell you it's gonna' get messy. By all accounts he's got enough firepower to shame the US army."

"Great," Hutch said, adjusting his sunglasses. "What did you dig up on Roz?"

"Well, she worked for a guy named Harper for a while, she ripped him off for a couple of grand. He ain't happy and he'll probably help you."

"Harper, as in John Harper? The import/export guy?" Hutch said

Huggy nodded. "That's him."

"Thanks Hug... if you hear anything else..."

"I know where to call." Huggy smiled affably

Hutch took the toy from Starsky's hand and handed it back to Huggy, Starsky was about to protest but Hutch was already in the car.

"See ya' Hug..." Starsky said dejectedly as he got into the Torino.

* * *

Hutch grabbed a beer out of the fridge and let the door fall shut. He pulled off the cap, tossed it over his shoulder, switched on the TV and sprawled out on the sofa. Just as he settled, the phone began to ring. He swore lightly and picked up the receiver. 

"Hello?"

Nothing.

"Hello?" Hutch repeated.

Still nothing.

Third time Lucky, "Hello, is anyone there?"

"You enjoying you're beer, Hutchinson?" A cold voice said, "I hope so." He heard the receiver click, then the dial tone. Hutch replaced the receiver and sank back onto the couch, taking a gulp of beer he stared at the phone. Something in the tone of that voice sent a chill up his spine. He crossed to the window and peered out. He thought he saw someone leaning against a lamppost, half bathed in the sickly glow and half shadowed. He glanced at the door, considering going out, but when he looked back they where gone. Half an hour later the incident was almost forgotten and when the phone rang he grabbed it

"Hello?"

"Hi, baby blue. How's the movie?" the eerie voice asked

"Who is this?" Hutch demanded, but received only the dial tone as an answer

"This is getting old real quick," Hutch said, slamming down the phone.

Precisely half an hour later, the phone rang. Hutch picked it up tentatively.

"What now?" he asked angrily.

"Just a game, Ken. No need to get upset." The tone froze Hutch's blood. He swallowed, the creep new his name, where he lived...

"Who is this?" Hutch asked with forced calm

"This is the Easter bunny," the voice said. "I'm going to give you a treat. A gift for being such a good cop."

"You're a little early, aren't you?" Hutch replied dryly

"It's a special present for you... _just_ you. If you tell you're partner, I'll be forced to punish you... you wouldn't want that now, would you?"

"Just what are you getting at?" Hutch asked, barely disguising the concern in his voice.

"No-one has to get hurt. I'm going to give you a special birthday present. If you tell Starsky, I serve you his _head_ on a _platter_, got it?" The voice was flat and cool; it tied Hutch's stomach in a knot. The other person hung up. Hutch threw away his beer, suddenly it seemed sour to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tight, almost immediately, the phone rang and he grabbed the receiver.

"What?" he snapped

"Uh... Hutch?" Starsky tone was worried.

Hutch sighed; it was a relief to hear a normal, emotional, voice. Starsky's voice. "No... no, I'm sorry... you just, uh... I walked into the sofa... What's up?"

"Oh... you ok?"

"Oh, yeah... what's another bruise?" Hutch laughed weakly.

"You sure you're all right?" Starsky pressed.

"Yes mom," Hutch replied a little tersely.

"Ok, well... I just had a thought about John Harper."

"At 11 o'clock? Starsk, couldn't it wait 'till tomorrow?"

"Well... yeah, I guess..."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," Hutch said

"See you," Starsky managed to add before Hutch hung up.

Starsky put down his phone. Truth be told he was worried about Hutch, he'd been unusually quiet since lunch. Something was bugging him and that was bugging Starsky.

"Tomorrow I'll make him tell me," Starsky quietly decided.

* * *

Starsky casually opened the door to Harper's office and showed his badge, Hutch walked around the other side of his desk 

"John..." Starsky said.

John reached for the phone. Hutch stopped him. "Who are you calling?"

"M-my lawyer," he stammered, his hand pinned to the phone by Hutch.

"Why? You doing something illegal?" Starsky said, settling down on the edge of the desk.

"This isn't a bust?" he asked, eye's wide with disbelief.

"No," Hutch replied, "We want to ask you about Roz King."

"Oh..." John said, leaning back in his seat "What do you want to know?"

Hutch got up and moved to the front of the desk. "Everything."

John sighed. "You'd better make yourselves comfortable." He pressed a button on his intercom "Miss Handly? Three coffees please."

* * *

Starsky leant against the Torino with his arms folded. "We talked for an hour and a half... we know what she eats for breakfast, where she went to school... and we're still no closer than we where before." 

Hutch nodded slowly. "We have one name."

"Reggie Tindle," Starsky acknowledged. "Out 'somewhere in the ass end of nowhere'... fantastic."

"If he's still alive," Hutch replied. "From what I can tell Roz doesn't like to leave contacts running around... on purpose."

Starsky sighed. "All right... let's say we get some food and think about it? Meanwhile, we'll get records checking out little ol' Reggie."

Starsky tentatively attempted to get Hutch to say what was on his mind, but succeeded only in making Hutch angry. Starsky let the matter slide; Hutch would have to say something eventually.

* * *

William Anthony paced up and down his penthouse. It was decorated in rich red and dark mahogany; the view of the city was breathtaking. He sat casually in a large easy chair and watched Roz stride into the room. She stood in the centre and glared at Anthony. 

"They've spoken to Harper..."

"So?"

"So... what's the plan?" Roz asked irritably

"We will each do what we are good at... I will think and you shall do. Now, we have a problem. I have a problem rather, that you shall fix. The cops are getting too close, they know too much. I want them finished... or... more accurately; dead."

Roz took a deep breath and nodded "From what I hear, they're pretty close... we could kill two birds with one stone, or more accurately" she added, imitating her employer "two cops with one stone."

"We are on the brink of a massive operation and I don't need glitches. Three million pounds in gems are about to be ours." He smiled grimly "They will be broken."

* * *

Hutch watched the city skim past his vision. They pulled up at a set of traffic lights and waited. Hutch's eyes settled on a figure in red sitting on a bench over the far side of the crossroad studying the car. He listened to the engine ticking over and glanced at Starsky who was glairing the lights impatiently. He glanced back to the bench but the figure was gone. A shadow fell over him and he saw the figure standing directly next to the car. He gasped and they where gone. 

"What?" Starsky's gaze snapped over to the passenger side

"Huh?" Hutch looked at his partner innocently attempting, none too successfully, to hide the unease in his voice.

Starsky pulled away from the lights and tore off down the road again. "You see something at the lights?"

"No..."

"You gasped." Starsky stated gently

"I said it was nothing." Hutch snapped back at him, then he turned apologetic "I'm sorry... must be a migraine coming."

Starsky raised his eyebrows "Yeah." _Something's wrong buddy, and I'm going to find out what._

* * *

Reggie Tindle's place was little more than a shack on the beach. He had a record with the police department for stealing cars and a couple of minor drug offences. Starsky tapped on the door. The door opened just a little, a pair of bloodshot eyes peered at him in the half-light. 

"Reggie?" Starsky said as Hutch came and stood by his side

"Who's asking?" A raspy voice said

"Police." Reggie's eyes widened for a moment, Starsky flashed his badge

Reggie let them in reluctantly. "Sooo... police huh?"

Hutch nodded, he had to stop himself gagging from the smell.

"We'd like to find out anything you have on Roz King," Starsky said, battling down the nausea.

"R-Roz? I haven't seen her..." Reggie said. "No... you must be mistaken. I don't know a Roz" The guy was sweating and shivering. He wrung his hands nervously. _Strung out._ Starsky thought.

"Well we think you do"

"No... no... Roz'll kill me if I talk!" Reggie cried, burying his face in his hands.

Hutch looked at Starsky "can we get out of here?" he whispered

Starsky grabbed Reggie and dragged him outside, throwing him on the sand.

Hutch took a deep breath of fresh air. He wiped his watering eyes.

"I thought you didn't know Roz?" Starsky said, regaining his equilibrium.

"I... I need protection!" Reggie cried, "She'll kill me..." He grabbed Hutch's jacket; Hutch shook him off. "You gotta' help me," Reggie cried pitifully. "Help me?"

Hutch suddenly turned away and lent on the wall of the shack.

Starsky took over.

"Listen we'll help you, just give us Roz King."

Reggie sat on the ground "ok... ok... she came here a couple of day's ago. She saw the state I was in... said she could help me, get me y'know... a job. She said if I worked as extra muscle on this job she was pulling I'd be made in Mr Anthony's organisation. I... I'd never have to be strung out again."

"You take the job?" Starsky asked.

"Yeah, I took it," Reggie said, hugging his knees to him. "But when it came down to it... I couldn't do it. I was given a gun and told to shoot... stealing a car's one thing..." He looked up at him. "Killing a guy in cold blood's another. I got sick and I took off. There where four of us, all given guns and told to shoot as much as we like."

"Where?"

"Down by the old cannery," Reggie said, balling up. "Help me... please..."

Starsky pressed $20 into his hand. "Don't go anywhere."

He tapped Hutch's shoulder and they walked away from the huddled figure alone on the beach.

"He's a victim Starsk... as much a victim of guys like Anthony as those girls or that bank teller..."

"We'll get him..." Starsky said softly, looking back at Reggie crawling back into his shack. How close had Hutch been to becoming like that? The thought scared him; he looked at Hutch and smiled thinly. He hadn't become like that; he never would. Starsky wouldn't allow it. No matter what, Starsky would be there.

* * *

"Nothing!" Starsky said, kicking rock into the side of the cannery. Hutch wandered back to him "There must be... Starsky!" 

Starsky heard the tires screeching away, a green Chevrolet sped off into the distance. "We were set up! That little shit Reggie... no wonder he's still alive when..." he said as he raised himself to his feet. He looked over at Hutch, still sprawled in the dust. "Hutch! Hutch?"

Hutch sat up and rubbed his sore head "I'm fine... something... someone pushed me..." He gazed up; near the corner of the building he thought he saw a flash of red

Starsky helped him to his feet. "Did you get a look at them?"

"No," Hutch said, his eyes fixed on the corner of the building

Starsky followed his gaze. "You sure?"

"I said no didn't I?" Hutch replied angrily.

"Ok... no need to be defensive..." Starsky said, walking over to the Torino

Hutch walked to the corner of the building where he'd seen the flash. He almost walked into her she was so close. Dressed from head to toe in red, she had almond shaped eyes that were totally black. Hutch gasped. She took off. Hutch chased her, but she was really moving. She grabbed a drainpipe and slingshot herself up and around the corner. He skidded to a halt, nothing but dust. He looked for places she could have gone, but it seemed she'd vanished into thin air.

Starsky jogged up behind him. "See someone?"

"I've never seen anyone move like that Starsk..." he said, bewildered.

Starsky studied his partner; then the ally. "Dobey wants us back in with a report."

Hutch sighed. "Sure."

They walked back to the Torino in silence.

* * *

Hutch lay on the sofa and flicked through the channels on TV. He eventually settled on some cop show. 

The phone rang, Hutch reached over to answer it "Y'ello?"

He turned pale.

"Hello baby," the cold voice began. "How are you tonight?"

"This is getting beyond a joke, pal... now you listen to me..."

"No," the voice cut him off. "You listen, the game's just beginning buddy. We're playing for keeps... you know that present I promised? Well, I'm gonna spoil the surprise... it's a new car. A hearse." Then the phone went dead.

Hutch replaced the receiver and felt dizzy.

Half an hour later the phone rang again, Hutch considered not answering, but he grabbed the receiver.

"Hey Blondie, getting lonely without me?"

"Hey..." Hutch hissed

"Don't get all tense, babe, you'll do yourself a mischief." There was a cruel laugh "Soon, babe, soon."

"Wait..."

"Remember... this is _our_ secret... don't want Starsky to get hurt, do we?" The dial tone made Hutch shiver as he replaced the receiver carefully. He pinched the bridge of his nose. There was a thud against his door and Hutch nearly jumped out of his skin. Grabbing his gun he flung open the door and ran into the street. Nothing. Walking back into his apartment he went to shut the door. His breath caught in the back of his throat, a six-inch bowie knife was sticking out of the door, pinning a crude rag doll. Hutch pulled out the knife, noticing how deep the scar in his door was. He pulled the doll from the knife and looked at it. It was wrapped in a roll of red cloth. Hutch closed his door and put both items on the coffee table. A noise reached him; it was a scream, a cry unlike any other. It seemed inhuman, a high-pitched wail that chilled him to the bone. He covered his ears in vain, and then it stopped. He decided what he really needed was sleep, he undressed and tossed his stuff onto a chair. He curled up under the sheets and fell into an uneasy sleep.

_Soon, babe, soon._

Hutch woke with a start. It was dark, and he was alone. He clutched his sheets to his chest; he was letting his imagination run riot. This was some elaborate scheme to get to Hutch going and it wasn't going to work. More than likely it was a guy with a speeded up recording of Guatemalan monkey or something. He wiped the cold sweat off his forehead and hugged his pillow. He'd sleep, and tomorrow this would be just a bad memory. But something was nagging him, he picked up the phone and dialled, Starsky would be annoyed, yes, but Hutch couldn't keep these things to himself any longer without going mad.

"Hello?" Said a sleepy voice

"Starsk?" Hutch began, fear still echoing in his voice

"What's the matter?" Starsky sat up in bed "everything ok?"

"I uh..." Hutch trailed off, he wasn't sure what to say now. How could he begin to explain what was happening?

"Hutch? Is something wrong... are you ok?"

"... I'm sorry, go back to sleep... I'll tell you tomorrow..."

"Whoa... you can't wake a guy up in the middle of the night and then fob him off. Tell me right now, what's up?"

So, Hutch began slowly and told him everything. Starsky sat in half stunned silence throughout.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Starsky was able to eventually say

"He threatened you... I... thought..." Hutch's words died on his tongue

"Hell..." Starsky said "Ok listen, you go to sleep now and..." He wasn't sure what else to say, his head was fuzzy from sleep and it needed time to sort out what was going on. "We'll uh... talk in the morning. 'Kay?"

Hutch was silent. Starsky could hear his breath down the phone, it seemed panicked "'Kay?" he repeated more forcefully

"Huh? Yeah... tomorrow." Hutch replied absently, the table lamp was flickering beside him. He put down the phone. The lamp turned itself off.

* * *

It was now Starsky's turn to not sleep. He tossed and turned but found he couldn't get himself remotely comfortable. He looked at the clock, 3.45am. Rolling over onto his back he stared at the ceiling and waited for sleep to take him, it didn't. Kicking off his covers he crossed the room and took a shower. No point in going back to sleep now, he figured, might as well get ready now and watch some TV. A shadow moved across the room, gliding silently from one side to the other as something passed the window. Had Starsky seen it, it may have alarmed him. As it was he was too busy soaping himself to notice it pass back and forth across the window twice before sliding away smoothly across the floor.

* * *

Hutch brushed his teeth and shaved, much the same as he did every day. But today he noticed his hand trembled slightly, he looked tired. Hutch had lain awake most of the night, staring at the ceiling. By 5am he was convinced it was Anthony, all accounts had him down as twisted and emotionless. The guy was messing with Hutch's head, and Hutch wouldn't go down so easily. He looked up into the mirror and froze. 

"Hello Hutchinson, how nice to finally meet you."

* * *

The door had been forced, that much was clear. The mirror in the bathroom had been smashed with a bullet and to say that there where signs of a struggle would be a terminal understatement. Starsky stood in the middle of the carnage dumbfounded. The amount of noise and fuss _must_ have caught the attention of the other tenants of Venice place, but there where no complaints... no reports. He glared angrily at the door. On the floor near the upturned coffee table were a doll and a large knife. Starsky had no recollection of such items before. He examined them then went back to the Torino.

* * *

Hutch fell to the floor, barely able to stay conscious. The room blurred and swam. He rested his burning head against the cold concrete. His left leg was numb, and his right knee stung, it was swollen and painful. It wasn't just the pain that was getting to him. It was the anticipation. Often Anthony would sit just by him and tell him what he was about to do. He would say it in a slow, cool voice. He revelled in the gory details, explaining just what tendons would be ripped, ligaments torn or bones broken. He would deliver pain casually and torment him in a conversational tone. Sometimes he remained silent, allowing the measured _Cr-r-r-ack_ of bone to resonate in Hutch's ears. Roz was much more passionate in her violence. She enjoyed delivering lightning blows to the softer parts of Hutch's body, she laughed to see him writhe from the lingering pain the treatment brought. What pleased her most though was tying his hands above his head and using him as a human punch bag. 

"Men!" She cried as she swept her hair back and punched Hutch again "So weak, so mindless... they think they're in charge... well, you're not." She screamed, her face pressed so close to Hutch's he could feel her breath on his cheek. She delivered him a blow that sent him spinning like some sick ballet. She stopped him by grabbing his red-raw shoulder; he winced. "Soon, all of you will see how powerful a woman can be."

* * *

Starsky wiped a soaked hand over his face. He'd found himself back at Hutch's apartment standing over the sink. He turned off the tap and dried himself off. He'd tidied up, they'd already gone over everything with a fine toothcomb and turned up nothing, so Starsky had semi-consciously tidied everything. He thought back to the call he'd received the night before. Hutch was frightened, and it usually took a lot to frighten him. Starsky shouldn't have left him alone. He sank onto the sofa, head in hands. He glanced at the time. 6pm, and all Starsky could do was sit and pity himself. He got up and headed for the door, he stopped. A tiny scratching sound seemed to be coming from behind him; he lingered at the door and turned around, the sound stopped. He shook his head and walked out.

* * *

He was tied to a chair. The ropes where tight and bit into his wrists. _Smack_ there was another. Hutch thought in might be a record._ Smack_ another bruise to match the one on the other side. He was smiled a little when he remembered what he'd said to Starsky, _What's another bruise, right?_ Oh God it hurt, _Smack_ what was worse, the pain, or the fact that this was entirely unnecessary? No time to think _smack_ the blindfold was bad, the gag was worse _Smack _one darkness gave way to another as he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

Starsky sat in the darkness of his flat. Reggie had been found dead in his shack after the shooting near the cannery. It had got dark long ago, but Starsky didn't notice, he was fixed on the doll in his hands. For some reason he'd taken it when he'd gone back to Hutch's for clues. There was a noise outside, a wail. Tortured and morose. It rose in volume slowly until it shattered Starsky's thoughts. He walked outside to see if he could find the creature and maybe put it out of it's misery. Walking a little way the noise had stopped and he turned back. He walked back into his house and shut the door; sitting on the table, bolt upright, was the doll. There was a note caught between its pudgy little arms. Starsky took it; it simply read 'Hutch Lives' in bold red letters. The phone began to ring; Starsky looked at it and slowly took it. 

"Hello?"

"Hutch is dead, I hope you find his mangled corpse before the rats do..." Then the line went dead. Starsky replaced the receiver carefully. He looked back to the note in his hands. It was enough; he slid the note into his pocket. Someone... maybe the same someone who saved Hutch today, had wanted Starsky to know Hutch was alive. But who? And how did they know? He sat down on his sofa and massaged his temples with his hand.

* * *

Starsky woke up on the floor. His left leg was still on the sofa and his hand was underneath him. He rolled over and got up, he ached all over and the sunlight was unrelentingly bright. He stretched his arm to get rid of the tingling pins and needles running up his fingers as the blood flowed back into them. He found the note in his pocket; he drew out the crumpled scrap and read it over. 'Hutch Lives.' It gave him an odd feeling of hope, now he just had to prey nothing had changed since last night.

* * *

Hutch woke to silence. His blindfold was gone and he could see he was alone. He was sitting on the floor, cuffed to the radiator. Blinking blood out of his eye he attempted to survey the surroundings. There was no way would he survive much more of this. He fought the urge to vomit; he was still gagged and would choke. 

"Rraaoow?" He slowly became aware of a black and white cat sitting between his legs. It rubbed it's head against Hutch's chest and purred.

"Cute cat," Hutch thought groggily

"Patches?" a young girl's voice echoed in the empty space "Patches?"

Hutch looked up as a teenage girl walked tentatively into the room "Patches! Oh... holy shit," she said as she saw Hutch. There was no time, the door on the other side was opening and she darted behind some canisters by the wall. Roz and Anthony walked in. Anthony stood by the slim window.

"Hello sweetness," Roz said, peeling away the gag painfully slowly

"Wha?" Hutch managed to blurt out

"Still feeling talkative detective? I'm surprised." Anthony began walking towards the canisters; Hutch could just see the girl's coat.

"You're a sick bastard Anthony..." Hutch shouted with his remaining strength, he was baiting Anthony, and he knew that only meant more pain. But the he was had to protect that girl, given Anthony's record.

Anthony turned on his heels. "Still got some fight left in you, huh?" he laughed. "How quaint." He knelt before Hutch and gripped Hutch's broken arm, causing Hutch to yelp, "You're half dead Hutchinson. But I'll make it easy for you're partner to locate you're broken, lifeless body. I'll deliver it to him."

"Why?"

"Why?" Anthony said "Why? Because I want you to be a warning, this is what happens to nosy cops," he spat

"Will..." Roz said, getting impatient.

"What?" Anthony stood.

"You talk too much." She raised her gun and fired three shots into Anthony's head, blood splattered across Hutch's face.

There was a noise behind the canisters, Roz turned. "What the?"

Patches sprang out from behind the canisters and bolted out the door.

"Cat." Roz laughed, "I'll be back later, baby." Hutch replied by throwing up over her shoes "Oh shit... eeww..." She kicked Hutch and stormed out. After a little while the girl emerged from the canisters, shaking. She grabbed Patches and held him close

"W... What's you're name?" she stammered

"Detective Hutchinson..." Hutch moaned.

She nodded and fled the building.

* * *

Hutch could feel the life sapping out of him, he was alone with a corpse. Two seconds ago the man had tortured him almost to the point of death, now he lay a few feet away with half his head blown away. A pool of dark red blood formed on the floor. Hutch began dry heaving until he no longer had the strength; every movement caused him terrible pain. It was more then likely he was suffering from a few broken ribs and he knew he would die there, alone, save what remained of Anthony. 

His body was in shock and his mind was doing summersaults, along with his stomach. He was cold and sweating profusely. He was falling apart at the seams and began to sob uncontrollably, despite the pain. The broken, wretched figure huddled himself against the wall and wept. Wept for the pain, wept for himself, for Starsky. No matter if that girl got help, Hutch thought, he'd be dead before Starsky could get there. He was as good as dead; the only comfort was that Roz was not around to enjoy his desolation.

* * *

Neither the girl nor Starsky were really looking where they where going, they crashed into each other in the doorway of the police station. The kid dropped the cat she was carrying and in surprise it darted off. 

"Patches! Oh hell...I'll never find him now."

"Hey kid, I'm sorry..." Starsky said. "You ok?" The kid looked spooked.

"I need a policeman," the kid said, her voice trembling.

"Well, you've come to the right place... what can I do for you?"

"Are you a policeman?" she asked.

Starsky showed her his badge, he didn't really have time for this, but the kid looked really frightened.

"I... I met a cop... named Hutchinson."

Starsky's heart skipped a beat. "Hutch? Where was he?"

"Patches... my cat... he ran into this warehouse, I followed him in. There was this cop tied to a radiator. These other two came in, a guy and a woman, I hid. They talk to the cop... then the woman blew away half the guy's head. Then the cop puked on her shoes."

Starsky couldn't help himself a small chuckle. "Puked on her shoes, huh?"

"You have to believe me!" the girl cried, thinking Starsky was teasing her. "He's in a warehouse near Madison gardens, the one opposite the phone box. It's got a big red cross painted on the door."

Starsky jumped up and led the girl inside. He grabbed a uniformed officer. "Take this girl to captain Dobey." He knelt by the girl. "Tell him everything you told me, ok?" She nodded; he ran out of the building and leapt into the Torino. The tires squealed as he raced down the road, siren blaring.

* * *

The Torino skidded to a halt outside the warehouse; he didn't wait for backup. He slid the door open and made his way inside. He found it strangely deserted. He made his way around the edge to the office at the back. As he was halfway across the floor the door sprang open and Roz came out, followed by a heavy-set guy carrying a troublingly limp Hutch. 

"Come on..." she shouted. "It'll be here soon."

"He's heavy, Ms King..." the goon protested.

Starsky pinned himself to the wall, he noticed both Roz and the goon were carrying weapons. She opened the door and headed up some steps, Starsky slid closer. Roz allowed the goon to go first, then turned in the doorway.

"Come on Starsky, you think I didn't see you're big red car burning up the road outside? Why don't you show you're face?"

Starsky wisely stayed out of sight.

"Why don't you come over here?" he shouted.

Roz simply laughed and fired a couple of rounds into the crates near Starsky's hiding place.

"Roz... you'll get what's coming to you..." Starsky shouted.

"Funny, Kenny said that... just before my boot broke his face."

Starsky took a deep breath, he jumped out of his hiding place, but she was gone.

Starsky sprinted up the stairs two at a time; he could here the rhythmic thudding of a helicopter on the roof.

"I hope you're buddy can swim!" Roz had shouted back as she ran up the stairs, occasionally firing at Starsky.

The goon was falling behind, Roz turned to him angrily "just... just dump the bastard," she shouted. "He won't live much longer anyway." The goon lifted Hutch off his shoulders and dropped him down the steps.

"Shit!" Starsky exclaimed, throwing himself around the corner and pelting up the stairs. Starsky caught him and fired a few parting shots as the door above him crashed shut. Hutch was bleeding, his eyes where bruised and swollen. Starsky gingerly moved him into a more comfortable position and supported his head.

"Jesus, Hutch..." he whispered, Hutch was barely breathing "Hutch... can you hear me? Hutch... don't leave me, please... you gotta' hold on, just a little bit longer... Hutch."

Somewhere in the darkness of his mind, Hutch could hear Starsky's voice. It seemed far away, difficult to get to. He wanted to stop hurting, shit, had it only been 24 hours? It would be so easy to let go, so easy to stop fighting. All he had to do was stop trying to live, and the pain would go away. He'd never be in pain again.

Don't leave me... Hutch...the amb... n... ts... ld... ease? The voice drifted, Hutch tried to focus, he tried to fix on the voice. But it was so hard; the pain was driving it out. Hutch Lives. Huh? What was that? Hutch couldn't focus; his head was killing him... maybe literally. Hutch Lives. Hutch needed to focus; his head was spinning, he weakly reached out in his confused dreams, the memories flirting into his consciousness. 

Hutch's hand reached up, Starsky grabbed it "Hutch? Can you hear me? I can hear the ambulance... we're gonna' make it."

"...'Ky?" came the half mumble. Hutch tried to open his eyes, but he could barely see Starsky. "What..." His throat felt like sandpaper "...'ed?" He forced himself to say.

"Shhhh... ok, ok..." Starsky soothed

"Starsk?" Hutch cried, his chest was tight and he began to panic. He didn't want to die, not now, not like this. He struggled, Starsky held him.

"It's ok... it's ok, the paramedics are coming, we'll be ok."

Hutch gazed pitifully at his partner. "I don't wanna die."

"Good." Starsky sighed, wiping the blood and sweat away from Hutch's forehead. "It's gonna' be all right. We're gonna' be all right."

* * *

Hutch was rushed into intensive care. He was in a bad way and had to be put on a machine to breath for him. Starsky was almost looking as bad as his partner. He ran through a some of Hutch's injuries in his head. Cracked collarbone, broken ribs, torn knee, punctured lung, and Roz had escaped. How must Hutch have felt, alone... knowing he was going to die? Sitting in a room with that corpse... half it's face shot away. Starsky had felt sick just thinking at it, but being locked in a room with it? He looked through the glass at his partner; he'd be there, same as ever. He'd get Hutch through whatever nightmares he had to get through. He'd be there if it all got too much, he'd be there. A nurse approached him "Mr Starsky? Dr Heller would like to talk to you." 

"Detective Hutchinson..." Heller began "is in a critical condition."

Starsky sank into a chair.

"He's has suffered severe internal haemorrhaging... it was a miracle he survived as long as he did, you're partner is certainly a fighter. However, I feel it is my duty to tell you this also... if he doesn't starts breathing I his own soon... a choice will have to be made whether or not to keep him on the machine."

Starsky looked up at him. "What?" His mouth was dry

"We'll ask for Hutchinson's family to come down and decide whether or not to turn off the machine."

"The machine that's keeping him alive?" Starsky repeated slowly, as if failing to understand what Heller was suggesting.

"Obviously, that decision is a little way off yet. We have him on close watch, but there's only so much we can do. I just... don't want you to hold out too much hope."

Starsky nodded silently, his voice barely left his throat. "Okay... but, there is some hope, right?"

"There is always some hope," Dr Heller said, placing a hand on Starsky's shoulder.

* * *

Hutch stepped out of the shower and stopped. There was something strange about his bathroom. Something felt fundamentally and seriously wrong. He got dressed and glanced at his watch, ten to eleven. It was dark outside. He grabbed a beer out of his fridge and popped the cap. He took a big drink but the liquid seemed to evaporate in his mouth, until it tasted like sand. He spat it out. It dripped off the breakfast bar onto the carpet. 

"What the hell?"

He sat on the sofa and scanned the room.

The phone began to ring. Hutch reached over and picked up the receiver

"Hello."

"Hello baby."

Hutch froze.

"Y-You..."

"Yeah, babe. It's me... had you worried, didn't I? Why don't you come over mine sometime and I'll show you a good time."

"L-look..." Hutch stammered

"I'm having quite a party out here. I think you should join us... I've got a couple of friends over."

"Anthony..." Hutch continued "H-how?"

"I'm coming back for you, Blondie. I'm coming." The dial tone finished the conversation. Hutch felt sick, he slammed down the receiver. His head felt fuzzy, something was trying to surface in his mind and push itself into his consciousness. Alarmingly he thought he could hear a voice, barely a whisper, telling him something about... he shook out the sound and picked up the phone.

* * *

Starsky was reading out of a magazine to Hutch, hoping to somehow drag Hutch back into reality. It wasn't just that, Starsky hated the silence of the room coupled with the mechanical heaving of the machine. He dropped the magazine and sighed. The bruises on Hutch's face where disappearing, he looked so peaceful. Starsky gazed out of the window. Roz was out there somewhere, laughing at him. He looked back at his partner, what he wouldn't give to get his hands on that woman and tear her to pieces. He despaired at how a human being could do something like that for no reason other then spite. If Starsky could have swapped places with his friend he probably would've. The lights in the hospital flickered momentarily and Starsky raised his eyes to the ceiling.

* * *

"Come on..." Hutch slammed down the receiver, no one was in, apparently. He grabbed his jacket and keys and headed for the door, as he touched it, he suddenly felt nauseas. He yanked open the door. The girl in red casually stood on the corner glairing at Hutch with frightening intensity. Hutch spotted her as he made his way down the steps to his car. He stopped and looked at her, she stood unflinching. He walked across the unusually quiet road. 

"You were the one who saved my life at the cannery..." Hutch began

She cocked her head to one side and watched him with unblinking black eyes.

"I... wanted to thank you," Hutch said, feeling uncomfortable under the gaze, as if he was standing in the corner in his boxer shorts.

She narrowed her eyes a little, a slow grin spread across her face. Hutch laughed weakly. "Uh... if there's anything I can do..."

The grin widened into a twisted smile. Her thin lips curled over her gleaming teeth. She ran her tongue over them and then the smile vanished. She stood up and glanced over Hutch's shoulder. Hutch turned, Anthony stood in the road, half his face gone. Hutch took a step back, the girl grabbed his hand and they began to run. Anthony pulled out a machine gun and began to spray the sidewalk, he yelled angrily as the girl tugged Hutch out of the way and fired on him, a bullet found the centre of his skull and he fell, she continued to drag Hutch along the street.

* * *

A violent storm was brewing, lightning flashed across the sky. Starsky found himself living in Hutch's apartment, he'd gone to water the plants and never left. He'd replaced the bathroom mirror, albeit with a slightly grubby one he'd found in a junk shop. Rain began to hammer down outside and Starsky made himself a coffee and huddled on the couch in front of the TV. He kept a torch by his side, not because he feared the dark, but because he didn't want to bump into things in an unfamiliar apartment. At least that's what he told himself, he knew Hutch's apartment as well as his own, still, the torch was handy to have. Especially when the blackout happened. Starsky's first thought was the hospital, if the power was off here, then it might be off at the hospital. Starsky nearly leapt for the door but settled himself again when he reasoned, quite correctly, that the hospital had a backup generator for just such an occasion. His heartbeat was still racing while he sat in total darkness. Suddenly a flash briefly illuminated the room, and the figure standing directly at its centre. Starsky yelped and fumbled for the torch, he swept the beam across the room. Nothing. A shadow raced up the wall to his left, he swung the torch around and found nothing for a second time. 

"N-nothing there." Starsky reassured himself as he set about lighting a couple of candles. He ended up lighting more then a couple, their dim glow only making the shadows in the corners seem deeper and more sinister. Starsky turned on Hutch's battery powered radio, it fizzed and crackled as he turned the tuner, but nothing could be found. He switched it off in annoyance and settled on the sofa again. A cold chill ran up his spine as the window suddenly sprang open in a gale and the candles where all extinguished. The lights and TV sprang back into life as Starsky picked himself up from behind the sofa where he'd dived moments earlier. He shut the window to and put a cloth on the floor where the rain had soaked the carpet. He cursed himself for being so ridiculous. He made a point of not telling Hutch about it. Ever.

* * *

Hutch collapsed against a wall, his chest heaving. "What..." 

The girl stood watching him, barely breaking a sweat.

Hutch looked up into her black eyes

Starsk... I don't want to die... not here, not like this... 

His head was throbbing, Hutch grasped his forehead "What's happening?" he cried, falling to his knees.

_You're dying._

Hutch looked at her, her lips never moved, she didn't blink.

_You're dying._

Hutch looked at her in disbelief "W-What?"

_Do you want me to spell it for you?_

Hutch was taken aback by this sudden tone "How can I be dying? I... Hell." Memories flooded over him, he shuddered "who are you?"

_You really don't want to know._ She grabbed his arm and began to run again

* * *

She must have been thirteen; sitting huddled on the bench in the hospital grounds sketching. She looked up as Starsky walked past. 

"Hello," she said

Starsky was startled; he looked down at her. "Hello..."

"Jeez... you look as bad as I feel," she said with a small smile. "Do you believe in angels?"

Starsky turned to her "Um..." He was too tired to think straight.

She passed him a piece of paper. He took it and unfolded it; it was a picture of a girl dressed in red, her eyes totally black. Starsky snapped his gaze back to the girl... she was gone. The grounds where all but deserted, Starsky looked at the picture in his hands.

_She was all in red... but... it was her eyes... black eyes, Starsk... totally black._

Starsky took out the other piece of paper, Hutch Lives. Hutch was alive, and while he was alive there was hope.

* * *

Hutch followed the girl for what seemed like miles, he glanced at his watch. Quarter to eleven. He checked the watch again, shaking it. He held it to his ear. The girl stopped and turned, studying him intently. 

"Damn watch..."

_You think it's weird now?_

Hutch looked at the girl, she grabbed his wrist and began to run again.

"Where are we going?" Hutch panted

_You REALLY don't want to know..._

* * *

Starsky sat on the bench where the kid had been moments earlier. Up there, in a sad little room his best friend was fighting for his life. He walked to the phone near the edged of the grounds and picked up the receiver, slipping a dime in the slot he took a deep breath. He was about to put every snitch who ever walked the street on overtime. Roz was a marked woman and that made her poisonous to know for any criminal in the city. She'd soon be desperate, and then she'd slip up.

* * *

Hutch glanced at his watch. Half past ten. The girl had stopped dragging him through silent streets stopped outside the warehouse painted with a red cross. 

"You where right... I didn't want to know." Hutch said, slowly backing away

The girl gave him a mildly irritated look and dragged him forward, Hutch followed helplessly.

* * *

Starsky rounded the corner of the hospital, just in time to see Roz stepping out of a taxi and entering the main doors. 

"Shit," Starsky exclaimed, speeding up.

* * *

"Hello Hutchinson." 

Hutch turned, they where standing on the roof of the warehouse, helicopter hovering in the background. He had no recollection of going through the warehouse. He glanced at his watch, 10.16. Anthony took a step forward; "Now you die."

* * *

"Mr Starsky!" The nurse grabbed Starsky's arm. "You can't go in there... Detective Hutchinson's sister is in there." 

"His sister... his sister my ass! Call the police... now!" Starsky said, pushing her aside. He flung open the door "Roz!"

Roz turned, gun in hand. "Too late... Hutch dies." She fired three shots at him; Starsky dived to the ground. Roz turned to fire at Hutch but the gun jammed. She tossed it aside and ran for the machine that was acting as Hutch's lungs.

* * *

Hutch fell to the ground as another blow fell across his chest. The girl delivered a spinning kick into Anthony's face, sending him stumbling back.

* * *

Starsky threw himself at Roz, slamming her against the wall 

"I don't usually hit ladies... but you 'ain't no lady..." he yelled

She snarled and kicked him back. Starsky spun around and crashed into the machine, sending it to the floor. Starsky looked at it with horror.

Roz started into hysterical laugher. "Oh, glorious! You killed him! You killed him... wonderful!"

The alarm was screaming, Starsky ran to Hutch's side "Oh god..."

* * *

Hutch's body was screaming, he tried to gasp... fighting against the hand over his face; he felt icy hands dragging him into the darkness. Anthony laughed as he gripped tighter "Die, pig," he hissed. The ground seemed to swallow him up, water rushed over his head.

* * *

Starsky yelled for the nurses, but none seemed to appear, he looked down at Hutch. "God Hutch... I... I swear to god we'll go camping whatever god forsaken place you please... please... breath." He started to perform desperate CPR.

* * *

Hutch tugged at the vice like grip on his throat as he fought the swirling water around him 

_No, not like this... I don't want to die... not now, not like this. _With all his strength he tore away Anthony's hand. He was free, but still sinking. Suddenly a hand. It grabbed him and dragged him up towards the light above; he crashed out of the water. Gasping a lungful of air and looked with blurred eyes up at his saviour. Not black eyes like he expected.

"Starsky?" He half coughed, the world evaporated around him; it turned white.

Hutch sucked in a huge breath and started coughing violently. Starsky wiped his eyes, his hands shaking "Hutch... Oh god..." He slid uneasily into a chair and pulled it close to the side of the bed.

Hutch opened his eyes slowly; the whiteness of the hospital room came into focus, his breathing was still erratic, but slowed considerably.

"Starsky?" Hutch coughed, his voice dry and raspy.

"Hey..." Starsky said, his voice barely above a whisper

"Wha... ed?" Hutch managed

Starsky bit his lip "Hey babe... don't try to talk. Just... relax..."

"Starsk..." Hutch said, weakly holding Starsky's jacket. "I th...t I was g-n die... I... wanted to die."

Starsky felt cold, he took Hutch's hand. "But you didn't..."

"I heard... someone ... I wanted to live, I wanted to live."

Starsky nodded silently.

"... Hutch Lives," Hutch said, coughing

"Easy! Easy... take nice deep breaths... there's plenty o' oxygen for us both."

"If you ..." Hutch said, drifting back to sleep. "I'd be dead... I figured... on the stairs..."

Starsky was still in shock. Roz had escaped, but by some miracle Hutch was breathing on his own again. He slumped back into the chair and pulled out the note. Something very strange was going on... Hutch Lives.

* * *

Hutch grabbed two beers from the fridge and let the door fall closed. He gave one to Starsky and sank onto the sofa. It had been two months since he'd left hospital, and he was feeling pretty good. Still, there was still the occasional twinge here and there, as well as the odd nightmare or two. But Starsky was only ever a phone call away. Many's the night they spent not doing much of anything, just pleased to be in each other's company and the peace of mind it brought them. Hutch was currently winning with four games to two at monopoly, not that it mattered, what mattered was that the other was _there_, whether or not they were winning or losing. Starsky often protested he was letting Hutch win out of sympathy. 

"Pizza and a beer..." Starsky sighed as he reached out and grabbed himself another slice "and TV. Now all we need is some ladies..."

"So... what did I miss?" Hutch said, biting into a slice of pizza and tucking his right leg beneath him and indicating the film.

"The kid with the broken leg is trapped in the service elevator," Starsky said

"Oh," Hutch said, he took another mouthful of beer. "Well... that's exciting."

"Hmm-hmm," Starsky said with mouthful of pizza.

"To the party." Hutch announced, raising his beer

"The party?" Starsky asked in bewilderment

"The party we're going to crash tomorrow." Hutch replied with a grin

"Ah... to the party." The bottles clinked in the air

* * *

The Torino's tires squealed in protest at such treatment. Hutch has to grip hold onto the dash to keep himself from flying into Starsky's lap at each corner. They were chasing the last car fleeing from the Keller Memorial Home, an abandoned care home being used by Roz's boys. One of Starsky's snitches had come up good and tipped the detectives off about a meeting happening that morning. The green Chevrolet was thought to contain Roz and a man named Roland 'Milky' White, a crime lord from out of town. 

"Take it easy will you?" Hutch shouted over the wailing siren and screeching tyres. "You'll get us both killed!"

Starsky ignored him as he threw the Torino into another turn. The roared up the road to discover the Chevy abandoned by an old church. Starsky pulled up behind.

"Sanctuary?" he said, jumping out of the car and grabbing his weapon.

Hutch followed him to the door of the church, still half open. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance. Starsky and Hutch gingerly walked in, keeping their backs to the walls as they edged around the church. Hutch stopped and signalled to Starsky, he could see someone moving on the far side of the church.

* * *

It started as a moan, a low mournful sound echoing through the rafters. It built up, slowly at first and then gaining momentum until it reached a torturous crescendo of a gut-wrenching shriek. It echoed through the church, Hutch nearly passed out from the pain in his head. He turned and looked into the girl's black eyes. 

She drew a long knife. "Die," she hissed before thrusting it through Hutch's stomach.

The point of the knife showed under Hutch's jacket at the back. Blood pooled around his feet.

"Huuuuuuutch!"

* * *

"Hutch! Hutch, calm down... it's ok!" 

Hutch's eyes snapped open; he sprang upright. Starsky grabbed him

"Hutch... it's all right... it's ok..."

Hutch's chest was heaving; he ached all over. "Starsky?"

"Jeez... you scared the shit outta' me!" Starsky said. "Thrashing and yelling like that..." Starsky placed a warm hand on the back of his partner's neck

"Stark... what..."

"You caught a two by four round the head... Hey, how many fingers I got up?"

Hutch gave him a dirty look "Three. You always hold up three."

"I do not..." Starsky replied indignantly

Hutch rubbed the back of his head; it did feel sore.

"Where am I?" Hutch said, looking around. He was still in the church. He could see a couple of uniformed officers outside. "Shit... this case is defiantly not on my top ten favourites list..." He got to his feet uneasily

"It's not that bad." Starsky said with a smile

"D'you get that bitch?"

Starsky's face fell. "We found her... stabbed..."

Hutch furrowed his brow. "By who?"

Starsky fell silent "We... don't know"

Hutch looked up passed him, the girl in red stood in the archway.

"Hey..." Hutch began, "How did you...?"

She took a step forward and examined the bloody knife sitting in her hand then she took another slow step. Hutch felt his muscles tense, could it be a dream, or real? Or both? He couldn't tell where one began and another ended any more.

"It's over," she said in a distant voice. "Hutch Lives." She turned sharply and sprinted down the hall and disappeared through the doors, Hutch looked up at the bewildered Starsky "It's over..."

"Apparently so."

* * *

Hutch knocked on the door and waited. Starsky was holding a parcel wrapped up in gold paper and tied with a bow. 

"You think she's in?" Starsky asked

"Well, her mom said was." Hutch replied. He felt something against his ankle. A black and white cat wound itself around his legs. He picked up the cat and it purred

appreciatively, "Hello cute kitty... little life saver you..." Hutch cooed

Starsky lent against the doorframe and petted the cat, "We owe you one."

Hutch grinned. "That reminds me, you owe me a camping holiday."

Starsky smiled and nodded. _It's a small price_. Hutch Lives.

* * *

FIN 


End file.
